


This Ain't a Kissing Booth

by micina



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 03:54:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micina/pseuds/micina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes credits are negotiable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Ain't a Kissing Booth

**Author's Note:**

> a tumblr fill
> 
> http://jaufea.tumblr.com/post/48822837144/batterie-fanfic-where-zacharie-runs-out-of-credits

The Batter wasn’t exactly generous, but he didn’t really have any friends or reason to be so. Everything he had, he deserved from working for it, or buying it with money he’d also worked for. He also wasn’t materialistic, so there was nothing useless on his person. He had tickets for health, to cure poison, to help make him stronger—all sorts of things—but not a single knickknack or trinket. It was all essentials.

Zacharie, on the other hand, was very… kitschy, he liked to describe him. He liked baubles and decorations and things. That’s why he was a merchant. He liked to collect. There were only so many people who would buy from him, however, so most of what he found or bought, he’d put into his amusement park. He’d even commissioned a life sized sculpture of himself because if you’re going to make a park you might as well go all out, right?

But that sculpture, combined with keeping everything up and running, and paying for the few employees, drained Zacharie of his credits more than buying treasures ever had.

He was thankful for the Batter, thankful that he had things he needed to keep him alive so he would buy them and he’d get more money. But he was getting stronger and didn’t seem to need as much anymore. He always came back, even if just to see what he was up to, and today seemed to be no exception as Zacharie watched him from behind his mask, gazing as he came into view and began sauntering towards him.

"Good evening, amigo," he greeted him, waving in one motion. "Come here to buy?"

"No." Zacharie frowned, but it went unnoticed and unseen. "I’m checking up on you." He laughed, his usual monotonous laugh.

"I don’t require a babysitter, you know. But since you took all this time to come over here, why not play a game? Only ten credits. Or ride the coaster for twenty!" Had his hat not been in the way, Zacharie would have been met with a confused and judgmental stare, but instead only felt the air around them grow thicker. "Aw, c’mon, pal, I gotta make some money somehow."

"I buy my inventory from you exclusively."

"A few hundred credits every once in a while can’t fuel a whole park. Much less a single coaster!" He crossed his arms and tilted his head back, eying the man in front of him. The Batter was usually ready to buy after a little push, but he was being stubborn. Straightening where he stood, the merchant readjusted his mask and sighed. "You’re wringin’ me dry here."

"What do you have that I don’t already own, then?" Zacharie immediately pulled out the chest of his wares, popping it open and displaying it to his friend with immaculate and dramatic hand motions. A quick glance inside showed plenty of tickets and some slices of meat. Still no new weapons, and protective anything that was weaker than what the Batter already owned. "I apologize, I have all I need."

"Can’t you donate to charity or something?"

"I’ve saved up a lot of credits for a new bat—"

"So buy an item now and I’ll give you your next bat for free," Zacharie offered, spreading his hands. The Batter’s mouth tightened into a flat line.

"I don’t want anything that will weigh me down."

“Buddy.”

"Listen. I think we can come to a compromise here." In a few strides, the Batter filled the space between them and flicked a finger across the bottom of the feline mask his friend wore. "Perhaps it’s childish, but I’ll give you some credits for a kiss."

Zacharie laughed harder than he’d meant to, but nerves suddenly wracked his body. He cleared his throat and fingered the sides of his mask.

"I wear this for a reason, friend. I’m a hideous beast. Horrible. Stupendously ugly." There was no response for a long moment. A sharp intake of breath, and then he spoke.

"Just let me kiss you and take my credits," released through a sigh. Zacharie couldn’t remember the last time he’d been kissed. Or really, if he’d even been kissed at all. He swallowed and climbed on top of the counter, sitting with his legs on either side of his companion as he lifted his mask just enough to show his mouth.

"How much are we talking?"

"Kiss me and we’ll see."

The merchant bit his bottom lip as he considered the offer, but it only lasted a moment, for soon he’d closed the inches between them with hot breath and a firm kiss.

"Let’s say twenty credits."

"You’re joking!" The Batter didn’t smile, so he obviously was not. "Let me try again!" His hands came to either side of the man’s face and he kissed him harder, lips softer against the others. When he pulled back, he didn’t let go.

"We’re getting to about fifty with that."

"Blast!" He’d need something more than a thousand to afford this park. This wasn’t a time to play around.

Wriggling on the counter to scoot closer, he used the back of his ankles to pull behind the Batter’s knees and lock him close, kissing him again, and when he felt a response of lips shifting against his own, he thought he felt his own heart jump in his chest. That was an unfamiliar sensation…

“C’mon,” the Batter grumbled. Was that a threat?

Zacharie bent his elbows behind the man’s neck and reacted easily when his lips were parted to an invading tongue, feeling calloused hands catch on the fibers of his sweater.

"This is going to cost you a lot," he stated.

"Fine."

"Just—" he was cut off by a tongue across his bottom lip, "—be aware." Another interruption, but from welcome nibbling.

"I’ll give you half of what I have," the Batter offered, and without another word stepped closer, feeling Zacharie lift his thighs to his body and his crotch to his hips. The barely revealed skin of his masked face showed a darkening blush.

With a roll of his hips, he heard the man growl and felt his hands hold tighter to the small of his back, the noise in his throat vibrating through their kiss. Zacharie briefly wondered if he could get him to do that again, but with a quick lift of their hips together, he realized he wanted that instead. The cold heat pooling in his belly reassured him of this thought.

"Hey," he finally managed, pushing him back to start unbuckling his belt (but his neck and chin continued to be coated in bites and kisses), "do this for me and you get free admission to this park at any time." The Batter laughed against him wordlessly, working with him to wiggle out of his trousers and trailing his kisses to the shell of his ear. "O-Or—You know, we can work something out."

He shut up when he felt his hand in his pants, grabbing his crotch, and any noise he tried to make was silenced by another muffling kiss. They parted as the Batter caught his breath, bending down to grab his pants and pull them back up, his lips a rosy pink from swelling. Seeing him redress put Zacharie’s mind in a whirl. He was so close, he wouldn’t just leave, would he?

"You’ll give me my next bat for free," he told him.

"I-I—yes?"

"And throw in ten Fortune Tickets with that future deal and I’ll finish this."

"What—okay."

He reached into his back pocket and separated his credits, giving him half as he promised. Zacharie just watched him, his own hand idly palming himself, waiting for the return of affection.

"Don’t waste this."

"Of course not." The Batter moved forward to give another few rolls of his hips and a harsh bite on his earlobe. Zacharie whimpered and clutched the front of his shirt when he unceremoniously reached his climax and shivered in his arms. Rubbing to the end of his high, they moved away and stared at one another for a long moment before another kiss happened, but slower.

"Good luck," he told him, as casual as ever, and picked up his bat and left as if he’d come in and simply shopped.

Zacharie only sat and waited until he could collect himself before moving, shaky hands counting out the money—was that really 15,000 credits??—and lowering himself onto the counter.

That Batter was a generous one.


End file.
